


Coffee and Cake

by LadyArkin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cake, First Dates, Flirting, M/M, Plans For The Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 16:11:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4570986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyArkin/pseuds/LadyArkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft is simply trying to get to his favorite bakery and get the chef's weekly special which draws a following including a certain Detective Inspector. Could a simple conversation over a cup of expensive coffee and a slice of cake change both their lives forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee and Cake

Mycroft hurried.  
  
His meeting had run over. Then his car had hit unexpected traffic due to an accident. The moment his car pulled over, Mycroft exited and rushed towards the bakery door.  
  
The girl was just reaching for the open sign as he walked through the door. She smiled in a friendly enough manner despite the late hour.  
  
“I do so hope that I made it?” he asked quite concerned.  
  
She looked tired but said, “Just made it. The coffee and tea are still hot.”  
  
He nodded grateful and walked to the counter. The door was locked behind him.  
  
At the counter, he happily ordered, “The special cake of the week with a cup of green tea, please.”  
  
“You’re a lucky one, last slice,” the girl at the counter chirped happily.  
  
He watched as the last slice of check Burton’s special cake of the week was delicately placed on a plate. Cream was artfully dispensed from a canister and then a dusting of edible 24 karat gold was sprinkled over top.  
  
Mycroft smiled.  
  
The girl brought his treat to him saying, “I’ll bring you your tea, sir.”  
  
“Of course,” he offered her a bill saying, “Keep the change.”  
  
He walked away with his prize.  
  
A few steps later, he heard a familiar voice say, “Fancy seeing you here, sir.”  
  
Mycroft looked up to see Lestrade sitting at one of the small tables. Mycroft attributed his earlier haste as his reason for entirely missing the Detective Inspector’s presence. It bothered him because the man was hard to miss.  
  
The man’s body language was relaxed and at ease as ever.  
  
“Detective Inspector,” he greeted. “I see we have similar taste in baked goods.”  
  
“I’m here every Friday, if I can. The coconut fig cake last week was a real treat. I never would have put those two together.”  
  
Mycroft didn’t move. A part of him felt like he was in the cafeteria in secondary school all over again. As smoothly as he could, Mycroft said, “You haven’t tried your cake yet.”  
  
The Detective Inspector smiled in that easy way of his. “I’m waiting for the best part.”  
  
“It get’s better?”  
  
“This is the only shop in London that carries Kopi Luwak.”  
  
“Ah, yes. I’ve been introduced to the concept of coffee beans that have traveled down the digestive tract of a large South East Asian feline and picked out of its excrement.”  
  
The detective inspector laughed.  
  
Mycroft was instantly annoyed.  
  
Lestrade shook his head. “You and your brother. If I didn’t enjoy your antics so much my head probably would have exploded years ago.”  
  
“I see,” Mycroft said non-committally.  
  
“Are you going to join me? Our drinks are coming.”  
  
Mycroft was undecided, feeling a bit like he’d been asked to sit at the football captain’s table. He hesitated and wasn’t sure why. His saving grace was that the man’s eyes were on the two steaming cups coming towards them.  
  
The cups went on the table as Mycroft sat. They thanked the girl and she left.  
  
Mycroft watched the man pick up his expensive cup of coffee and sip. The man closed his eyes as he made love to the rim of his cup. The Detective Inspector was handsome to start with, but apparently in pleasure his face took on an intense sensuality that made Mycroft’s mouth water.  
  
Lestrade put the cup down gently. He slowly licked his lower lip. And thought carefully before speaking.  
  
“It’s smooth and had a floral note, unlike most coffee it isn’t bitter or acidic. It’s what you imagine good coffee should taste like when you smell it brewing and it calls to you.”  
  
Mycroft wasn’t sure if he was being flirted with. He shuffled in his seat uncomfortably. Still, he put on his best diplomatic face and asked, “How did you find this bakery? I’m curious.”  
  
“Double homicide across the way. They were open. I came in for a cup and fell madly in love. You?”  
  
“I’ve followed Chef Burton’s career for several years. She had a falling out with her former employer and I eagerly encouraged her to open her own establishment. Young, hungry, and innovative talent must be supported.”  
  
The Detective Inspector sunk his fork into the slice of cake in front of him. He growled deep in his throat. “This kind of support I can get behind.”  
  
There was another rumble in the man’s throat.  
  
Mycroft smiled. “I can’t decide if that’s a purr or a growl.”  
  
Greg picked up his coffee. He met Mycroft’s gaze and said, “It’s whatever you want.”  
  
Mycroft swallowed hard. He looked down at his plate. “I do believe that this is the longest I’ve ever had a piece of cake sitting idly in front of me.”  
  
“I’m trying to proposition you,” the man said clearly.  
  
The smile that Mycroft produced was fake. Greg was instantly aware that it was fake because it never reached his eyes. Something about it set his teeth on edge.  
  
“Yeah,” Greg said uninterested in what came next. “I get it, this is the part where you tell me to piss off. It’s fine.”  
  
Greg picked up his cup and plate. “No hard feelings. I’ll leave you to enjoy your treat in peace, Mr. Holmes.”  
  
Greg walked away. He kept his back to the man as he had his expensive coffee and cake packed up to go. He did his best to say goodbye to the ladies behind the bar in a cheerful manner, and then left.  
  
Greg walked to his car and sat. He set his coffee in the cup holder. Only one could hold a cup; the other was broken. He set the little cardboard box holding the fancy cake on his cracked dashboard. There were some weeks that he had to give up a night out at the pub just to be able to afford his expensive treat.  
  
Greg wasn’t sure what possessed him to approach Mycroft Holmes of all people. He was probably having a good laugh over it.  
  
Then, all of the locks in Greg’s car unlocked at once. A moment later, his passenger’s side door opened. Greg opened his mouth for what would have proven to be a spectacular tirade when Mycroft Holmes got in.  
  
Greg looked away and prepared himself for the worst. “Can I help you, Mr. Holmes?”  
  
For a long moment, there was only silence.  
  
Greg wiped his sweaty hand on his pants.  
  
Mycroft was the first to speak.  
  
His voice was soft and hesitant. “I left my cake and tea.” He felt foolish. “I was afraid you’d leave, that I wouldn’t get a chance to speak with you.”  
  
“How did you unlock my car?”  
  
Mycroft held up his phone. “I have an app.”  
  
“You still didn’t tell me what you want.”  
  
“It took me only a moment. Once you were done talking, to realize that you were sincere.”  
  
“Course, I was,” Greg said quickly.  
  
Mycroft looked away. “In my world every conversation consists of ulterior motives and hidden agendas. You learn to be careful.”  
  
Greg looked right at Mycroft. He waited a moment un their eyes met to say, “For four years my only concern has been to look after your brother and you.” Greg shrugged. “I’m single. You’re single. Why not ask?”  
  
“I,” Mycroft managed to say. He shook his head a little. “Relationships-  
  
“Not that hard to figure out.” Greg reached for the coffee cup and handed it to Mycroft. “For instance I have an interest in Kopi Luwak. You should at least try it.”  
  
Mycroft looked suspiciously at the cup.  
  
Greg smiled. “South East Asian cat poo coffee is tasty.”  
  
“That boarders on cruel,” Mycroft said, but he took the cup in hand and smelled it. “The smell is more mild than I expected.”  
Mycroft noticed the head on the black drink. “Is it supposed to have such a foamy head?”  
  
“It’s the cat’s digestive tract that makes it foamy,” Greg smiled. “Bad joke. It’s actually the low acid. The civet eats the fresh coffee berries. The beans ferment in animals intestines making the coffee much more drinkable. You don’t need milk. It has an almost delicate flavor.”  
  
“You make it sound almost refined.”  
  
“It’s the most expensive coffee on the planet.”  
  
Despite his doubt’s, Mycroft took a sip. He held the hot liquid in his mouth and allowed the taste to coat his palate. He swallowed and looked at the cup.  
  
“I don’t like coffee, but you’re right. It’s coffee but different. More palatable.”  
  
Greg didn’t hesitate to ask, “Would you like to share my cake and coffee?” he didn’t wait for a reply. Greg reached for the glove box and pulled out two forks from his collection of plastic utensils. He reached for some paper napkins as well before closing the glove box.  
  
He reached for the cake and opened the fancy wax lined cardboard box.  
  
He offered Mycroft a fork saying, “I get the weekly emails. This week it’s supposed to be…”  
  
“Brandy wine marinated pears baked into a buttery yellow cake.”  
  
“That was it.”  
  
Mycroft took the offered fork and dug into the thick slice of cake with a glee that he’d only ever held as a child during Christmas.  
  
Greg joined him in tasting the artfully arranged treat. He couldn’t help smiling.  
  
Mycroft took a drink of coffee before he passed it to his companion. Suddenly confused, he asked, “Would this be considered a date?”  
  
Greg took a deep drink of the coffee. He enjoyed it immensely as evidenced by the smile. “Why don’t we call this two friends very much enjoying a slice of heaven?” He took another sip of coffee. “It’ll be a date when I invite you over for my world famous boeuf bourguignon.”  
  
“World famous?”  
  
“Incredible,” Greg assured.  
  
Mycroft dug his fork into the soft cake with a hint of a smile on his lips. “I would feel honored to partake of such an auspicious meal.”  
  
“I have to warn you.” Greg took another draught from his cup. “There would be sentiment. Possibly a hug. Most definitely, kissing. Lot’s of kissing.”  
  
“Oh. My. Is there any way out of that?” Mycroft asked concerned.  
  
“None,” Greg assured with a shake of his head.  
  
“Will there be cake?”  
  
Greg smiled a bit. He looked at the cake in the cardboard box and said, “If I could do that, I’d be a happy man.”  
  
Mycroft took the cup from Gregory and said, “Why don’t I bring dessert?”  
  
“Why don’t you come over Saturday? If you’re free. If I’m free.”  
  
“Yes, Comparing and contrasting schedules. The joys of modern life.”  
  
“If you cancel, I will understand.”  
  
Mycroft went quiet.  
  
“Are you alright?”  
  
“This suddenly feels quite intimate.”  
  
“That isn’t easy to do in a car with a shared cup of coffee and a piece of cake.”  
  
Mycroft turned away. The look on his face was unreadable but quite somber.  
  
“Sorry,” Greg said quickly. “Too many jokes.” He looked over at Mycroft and said, “I want to be intimate with you. I’m not talking about sex. I’d like that too eventually. But, getting to know you would be better.”  
  
“Sex is easy.” Mycroft swallowed hard, “It’s that other part that’s hard to contemplate.”  
  
Gently, Greg asked, “Too hard?”  
  
Mycroft thought about it for several minutes. He deeply contemplated the situation. He considered eventualities and possibilities of multiple scenarios.  
  
Eventually, he asked, “In order to answer the question, I must ask. What are you intentions?”  
  
Greg couldn’t help the smile. “Well, sex sounds very good. Since you mention that you don’t mind that part, we should have a lot. But, I’d also like the other part. The part where we start off getting to know each other. Eventually, we start staying over nights. Room in made in closets for extra clothing. Maybe one day when we’re ready, marriage is legal. And I remind you that, it would really annoy your brother.”  
  
Mycroft fidgeted with the fork in his hand despite the little smile on his face.  
  
“Too much. Hardly a date and I’m proposing. That’s why I’m so bright.” Greg swallowed hard. “Can we pretend that I didn’t just stick my foot in my mouth?”  
  
“No,” Mycroft exhaled. “That was the most romantic thing that ever happened to me.”  
  
“Really?” Greg quickly added, “We’ll have to work on that.”  
  
Greg took the cup from Mycroft and gave him the box of cake.  
  
“I’ll make this easy. I don’t need you to do anything for my career. I make my own money. And, I don’t want your secrets. If you still want to come to dinner, I’ll make it worth your while.”  
  
Mycroft dug his fork into the cake but didn’t eat. The taste for it soured in his mouth. Mycroft released the fork and lowered the box.  
  
“I’m difficult,” he admitted. “My OCD drives everyone crazy. I gain weight easily. I’m very secretive. I believe those are the major complaints that have been thrown at me.”  
  
“My ex said I was a workaholic, never paid her attention, smoked too much, and never did anything around the house.”  
  
Mycroft picked up the cake on his fork and raised it to his mouth. Once he’d chewed and swallowed, he said, “We shall have to work on that.”  
  
Greg leaned over far closer than he had too. He forked some of the cake. He leaned a litter closer and kissed Mycroft’s ear. Lingering there he said, “I’ll meet you half way.”

Fin.


End file.
